


In the End

by medelrey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, i guess? idk how any of this really works i'm just here filling a request, tlj spoilers just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medelrey/pseuds/medelrey
Summary: She wakes with a start, hair mussed and damp with sweat, her thighs quaking and legs wrapped tightly in the sheets. Her fingers fling to the empty side of the bed, flexing experimentally against the fabric."Your vision?"Rey wants to snap the bond closed but she can’t. "Yes," she replies, "one of them."There’s a pause: hesitation. "In the end, it will be only you and me."She nods, silently wondering if he can see her. She can’t see him."Yes," he responds, "I see you."Rey closes her eyes, focusing on the thrum between them, concentrating hard like she had during her lesson with Luke, reaching out from inside her, channeling all the eager energy that hums around her. Suddenly Kylo’s a blip on the horizon, a little image, fuzzy, blurry, like there’s something blocking him from appearing fully. But she wants to see him, to feel the steady thump of his heartbeat and the heat of his skin against her palm once more. In that moment, she knows he’s right. In the end, it will be only them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I asked what people wanted to see if I chose to write another story and someone requested force bond post tlj. I did my best and I'm still not happy with it. Anyway, I'd like to thank Post Malone for putting me in a good enough mood to get this out and Halsey and G-Eazy for Him and I, which sort of reminds me of Reylo. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Rey knows that the silence shouldn’t bother her but it does. Her head feels empty, alone, once more. That’s another thing she _should_ be used to — the constant dull ache of loneliness — but he had filled it. Kylo. Ben. Even if only for the briefest of moments, she had been whole. And now the place in her brain is like an itch that can’t be scratched, like a gnat buzzing that can’t be controlled. It hurts, really, that she feels the loss of the bond so deeply. He should be her enemy — well, he  _is_ the enemy, but he’s something more, too. More than she will ever understand and Rey resigns herself to feeling whatever it is deep inside. It is another pang she will grow used to.

She turns on her side in her tiny bunk, pressing her face against the cold pillow. The sheets are starchy and almost scratch her skin when she nuzzles into them, but it’s a welcome relief to feel anything these days when she feels so horrifically empty. When Rey closes her eyes, all she can see is _him_. Kylo. Ben. She doesn’t know. She still wants to believe there’s light in him somewhere, so she can’t ever decide what to call him. There’s still some part of him that’s good — there has to be when she thinks of the way his lip trembled when he mumbled out _please_ , opening himself up, pleading, begging without saying so. She remembers the way his fingers had flexed beneath the leather of his glove, like he was beckoning her forward to change her future; to set her own path. To set  _their_ path. She had felt his desperation in that moment, the emotion thrumming through the bond like a tune and  _yes_  had almost left her mouth before she could think about it.

She exhales sharply, turning to her opposite side in frustration. She kicks the blanket from her legs, biting the inside of her cheek just to see if it would sting. _It does_. He had told her to let the past die, so why couldn’t she? Why couldn’t she let him die? Rey thinks of the way he’d looked at her on Crait, his brown eyes wide and filled with a thousand different emotions all at the same time. He didn’t say anything, not even through the bond, but the wind had been knocked from her lungs regardless. He looked so broken. He looked at her like _she_ was the one who had broken him. She was. Rey adds herself to the list of people who failed Ben Solo. Kylo Ren. It’s a fate she wonders if she can live with — that empty gaze that screamed so much broke her heart. Tore her in two. Is that how he felt?

When she closed the doors of the Falcon, he was the last thing she’d seen and she couldn’t forget it. She wouldn’t let herself. It was also the last time she had _felt_ him; the gentle hum in her brain going deathly quiet and beginning her unbearable loneliness once more despite being constantly surrounded by people on base. None of them give her what she wants — what she needs. She feels guilty and selfish for thinking so, but it’s a reality she’s come to accept. Once you’ve had your equal, no one else compares.

***

Rey spends her days training, fingers growing callused as they grip her staff with unnecessary roughness — a consequence of the anger that’s been building inside her — a side effect of the lingering emptiness inside her head. She’s getting good now; her footwork like an intricate dance as her hips and spine move in tandem when she swings the weapon through the air. Her arms are graceful when she makes an arc and she’s never had so much control in all her life. It feels nice but she wishes she had someone to _really_ teach her. But Rey has had a lifetime of relying on herself so this is no different.

She wishes she had a lightsaber in her palm, but it lies broken in her bag, a terrible reminder of everything that’s happened around her. And half of it is all her fault. It catches her eye one afternoon when she’s sparring with Finn and Poe and something inside her snaps. It begins in her chest, akin to adrenaline, before it fans out, licking into her nerve endings. She almost feels like she’s floating, like something else has control of her movements.

Rey feels her features change involuntarily, knees bending to situate herself in a fighting stance, shoulders hunched as if she’s ready to pounce. Her usual smile is gone, replaced with a dark sneer, teeth barred to the world like she’s an animal. She imagines for a moment this must be what it feels like to terrify — and worse, she likes it. She likes the feel of the power she holds just in her stance, watching Poe and Finn ever so slightly curl in upon themselves. Within a second, Rey lets loose, going hard, whacking Poe in the ribs and Finn in the back of the knees, one half of the weapon raised to smack his shoulders before she stops herself, a voice in her head calling her back. It’s neither her own nor her friends’. It’s his.

_Stop. This isn’t you._

She ignores it, dropping her staff where her friends stand  _staring,_ gazes betraying what they won’t say aloud. “Sorry,” she fumbles, “I really...just...sorry.” Rey stalks off without another word, body still abound with too much energy. She hardly notices the steady, gentle thrum of the empty place inside her brain.

_Rey._

_Don’t._ She thinks.

_I can’t see you._

_Good._

His voice is quiet, muffled, like he’s struggling to get through to her.

_But I can feel you._  

_Then stop._

_I don’t think it works like that._

_Then make it work like that._

It’s strange — she can feel him too, feel the tiniest of smirks that spread over his face, stretching his lips and she almost wishes she could see him. Kylo. Ben. But Rey can’t hide the fact she’s surprised he’s not raging at her. 

_Yeah, me too. I want to be. But I can’t._

Rey frowns. That makes two of them. She feels him slowly drift away until only the hum is left.

 ***

She’s in a gown of the deepest burgundy, almost black against her skin. Rey would have mistaken it if she hadn’t stepped closer, looking at herself like some kind of stranger. It’s velvet of some sort, expensive — she can tell that just from the stitching. The skirt goes to her feet, covering her toes and swelling out along the sleek, smooth floor she stands on. The top of the gown fits her well, high cut on her neck, the neckline running just above her collarbones before stretching out, framing her shoulders nicely. The garment ends just below her bellybutton, not quite meeting the skirt, leaving the tiniest sliver of her tanned, smooth stomach exposed. Rey’s arms are wrapped in the same soft material as her dress, as if to say  _this is still me._ Her hair is different, too, longer than she’s ever had it, almost touching the tops of her breasts. It falls loosely over her shoulders, though the top half is braided into intricate knots that _almost_ look like a crown. When she snaps her fingers in front of herself, still staring like she’s in a mirror, nothing happens and Rey realizes this isn’t real. It’s nothing more than a dream. But it isn’t her dream.

Palatial doors swing open behind her but Rey doesn’t move; she knows exactly whose heavy footsteps those are. She doesn’t need to see to know it’s Kylo. Ben. Whoever he is. But dream Rey smiles; the muscles in her cheeks flexing widely as she steps forward through the form of solid Rey, wrapping her arms around the man’s middle as he buries his face in her hair. “I missed you,” she hears him say softly before his lips press to her neck. Solid Rey can feel the heat of the kiss on her own skin and something in her stomach ignites, lighting her on fire with emotions and desires she doesn’t understand. She blinks at the vision before her, head tilting to the side as she feels Kylo’s teeth scrape across the delicate surface of her pulse point. “I was foolish to think I could ever be anywhere without you.”

But suddenly everything is black yet the bond thrums heavily, like it's pulsating with energy through empty space. Rey can feel Kylo coming to the surface of consciousness and she reaches out to him, gently.

_Your vision?_

_Maybe._

The bond snaps shut and goes cold before she can respond, leaving her a hundred times emptier than she felt before. She hates that she can’t stop thinking about his dream. She hates that there’s a traitorous part of her that wants the same as he does. Rey tries to tell herself it’s because she’s spent her entire life trying to be loved and admired, and that’s what she felt in the sequence, but it goes deeper than that. So much deeper. And she can’t stand it.

Rey wonders if he knows what she’s thinking — occasionally she’ll feel him prod at her mind and she prods right back, but it’s always darkness she finds unless there are tiny glimpses of his quarters or fleeting thoughts of  _her._ It almost feels as if he’s scared to let her see anything else. He probably is.

***

Sleep comes easily to her though when she thinks about his vision and how she could feel the love almost vibrate from the two embraced figures as she looked on. It gives her hope, maybe, that Kylo hasn’t absorbed all of Ben Solo and there’s light left in his soul still — or at least some neutrality. When she stood in the dream, the open space with sleek floors and an immaculate interior, it felt neither light nor dark. Just balance. Warmth. What she  _wanted and needed._

She feels heat now, though, and weight, pressing her deep into the mattress. She’s in another dream — for the bed is not her own and the person above her isn’t hers either. Kylo’s hair falls into his face as he presses into the dip of her shoulder and neck, inhaling deeply when the tip of his nose edges her skin. Rey’s legs are already wrapped around his waist, the same gown from the earlier vision pushed up around her thighs. She lets her fingers tangle into his hair, blunt fingernails scraping across his scalp and catching on the tangles. Despite the knots, his hair is silky to the touch and Rey wonders how she ever went so long without doing this. Kylo grunts as she gives a particularly rough tug, his teeth biting harshly into her skin, sucking a dark bruise that’ll last her days. She knows he means to claim her as his and she won’t cover it — let the world know what the two supreme leaders do when the lights go down. 

Rey doesn’t know when each of them lose their clothes — she supposes it doesn’t really matter, especially when Kylo’s soft lips are trailing down her body, his tongue lavishing attention to her pert nipples before he scoots down the bed, leaving her slightly cold and aching for his touch again. She feels his stubble on her thighs first, the rough heat of his cheek giving him away. It ignites a slow burn in the pit of her stomach and she arches her back, trying to fidget her way to his mouth. Kylo chuckles darkly, her fingers working her way to her waist, thumbs rubbing over the dips in her hipbones. “Be still,” he commands, lips against her leg. He’s watching her carefully, dark eyes staring eagerly at her pink cunt, swollen and dripping with arousal. He looks as if he’s found the galaxy’s treasure and Rey whimpers through her teeth.

Kylo hooks his hands beneath her knees, crooking then up toward the ceiling before he settles back down, taking a long lick up her center with no hesitation. Rey cries out, hips bucking despite his instructions. She can feel him smirk against her but he doesn’t stop, dragging his tongue from her entrance up to her clit. She moans his name softly, hands finding their way back into his hair as she rides along his tongue. He flicks the muscle over her clit, teasingly slow at first, just the tip, like he wants her to chase her own pleasure, daring her to fight against his words.

He laps at her with abandon, hands sliding under ass so he can position her better. He wants to taste her, to devour her, to have her come in his mouth, to have Rey’s sweet lips begging for more. He slides his tongue inside her as his thumb circles her clit, giving her enough pressure to make her keen, but not enough for her to fall apart. That can wait. Rey loves the wait and the chase. Kylo moves back up her cunt, lips replacing his thumb he sucks, eyes watching every minuscule reaction of Rey’s as he plays her like a fiddle.

Rey tosses her head back, falling into the dip of the pillows, sighing heavily as his name leaves her lips over and over and over, wetness seeping from between her thighs and soaking the sheets.  _She’s so close — almost there — just a little more._ The dream ripples, the vision crackling as if Rey’s wishes are coming to an end and she cries out, begging the Maker **no** , not yet, _please_. It’s wanton. She feels her body smooth back out, the consciousness fleeting from her mind.The vision settles back again and she’s on her stomach, Kylo arching her back with his hands, fingers splayed across her stomach to position her. Rey whimpers and presses her forehead against the mattress as she feels the head of his cock at her entrance.

And fuck, she’s being stretched beyond her imagination, his length pressing into her so deeply she sees stars. He grunts as he holds her hips, the backs of her thighs rutting against her ass as he slips in and out. It’s primal the way he takes her; one hand slipping up her spine, tracing its notches before he wraps her hair around his wrist like a harness, pulling her up so her back is flush against his chest. Kylo pounds into her, rocking her up and down with his hands, fingertips running along her body, itching to touch any part of her he can. 

 Rey pulses under his ministrations — he’s  _so_ good, too good, more than she can handle and she whines, digging her nails into his thighs as he fucks her deep. “Come,” Kylo commands, reaching around, thumb circling her sensitive clit, “I know you’re close. I can feel it.”

***

She wakes with a start, hair mussed and damp with sweat, her thighs quaking and legs wrapped tightly in the sheets. Her fingers fling to the empty side of the bed, flexing experimentally against the fabric.

_Your vision?_

Rey wants to snap the bond closed but she can’t. _Yes_ , she replies, _one of them_. 

There’s a pause: hesitation. _In the end, it will be only you and me._

She nods, silently wondering if he can see her. She can’t see him. 

_Yes_ , he responds, _I see you_. 

Rey closes her eyes, focusing on the thrum between them, concentrating hard like she had during her lesson with Luke, reaching out from inside her, channeling all the eager energy that hums around her. Suddenly Kylo’s a blip on the horizon, a little image, fuzzy, blurry, like there’s something blocking him from appearing fully. But she _wants_ to see him, to feel the steady thump of his heartbeat and the heat of his skin against her palm once more. In that moment, she knows he’s right. In the end, it will be only them.

 


	2. The Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The awful, sickly feeling of loneliness and abandonment hit Rey so hard that she falls to her knees. It knocks the wind from her lungs, shuttering her breathing as tears begin to roll down her cheeks with the force of it all. She is paralyzed by it; all of it, and the bond is screeching, like the bow of a violin scraping hard against its strings.
> 
> Kylo. 
> 
> Kylo. 
> 
> Kylo. 
> 
> She struggles to reach him through the bond; it’s difficult to find her way through all the screaming feelings.
> 
> "I can’t do it," he finally replies, voice weak. "I wanted the past dead and I can’t do it." She hears the ignored tears in the back of his throat. 
> 
> "I can see you." He’s too exhausted to keep up the barriers in his mind. "Come closer, please. Her voice is gentle like it was in the lift. I can help you. It’s never too late."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm FLOORED at the response this little story has gotten and all of your encouragement has prompted me to turn this into a three chapter fic! THANK YOU SO MUCH. You made my little heart sing with joy. Secondly, I'm not an Star Wars lore expert. I did as much research as I thought necessary and I still feel hesitant, so please be gentle if what I've written isn't...totally correct. I did my best. And most of all, I hope y'all enjoy!

“Rey.”

Finn’s voice is raised, tone urgent, like he’s been trying to grab her attention for the past hour. He sounds irritated and he certainly looks it — no matter how much he loves Rey, frustration comes easy to him. She looks up, blinking, trying to wash away the distraction.

“Yep — sorry.”

“Leia needs you. Poe’s with her; they’re finalizing the plans for the raid. They want your input.”

 Rey smiles, her hand reaching to gently wrap around Finn’s arm before she moves to leave.

“Where were you, Rey?”

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “I’d tell you if I could.” And it’s not that Rey can’t tell her friends where she goes in her mind, but she doesn’t know how to. How does one explain something when no sense can be made of it? Her friends would brand her a traitor, wouldn’t they? If they knew she could still feel Kylo Ren running through her system just like the blood in her veins. 

The once-empty place in her mind hums at a constant now and she doesn’t know how to feel about it. She’s not spoken to Kylo since she dreamed — since he told her it would only be them in the end. The sentiment is like soft wind at her ear, there, but not really — just enough to remind her that there might just be a future that’s different than what she’s always imagined.

Rey knows what  _Kylo_ wants. He’s not half as difficult to read as he thinks he is. He wears emotions like they’re clothes, written across his face in bold type. She considers for a moment that maybe it’s just because she  _knows_ him, that because she’s his _equal_ , she’s privy to things that others aren’t. But that’s not quite right, either. There are things she _knows_ , _understands_ , but there are still parts of Kylo Ren they remain unmapped to Rey. She never knows if she likes that. There’s a part of her that’s constantly screaming for him; to know him fully in order to cut and destroy and put him back whole again. Rey swallows the wish, pushing it down deep inside. That’s a mental argument for another day.

 ***

 Rey stands across from Leia and Poe, her mouth in a solid line, eyes focused like a soldier.

“...So we’ll stay low, confuse their tracking. Hux won’t know we’re coming and once we hit ‘em, they’ll scramble.” Poe says, his fingers tapping quickly at the digitally displayed flight-plan.

Leia nods solemnly, looking expectantly at Rey.

“We’ll make it quick,” she adds, “like you said. In and out. Destroy their ammunitions and be out of the atmosphere by the time they have their TIE fighters out.”

Leia nods again “Captain Dameron will take what’s left of the Black Squadron and you will follow in tight formation behind him.”

Rey swallows hard. It’s one thing to be a pilot and another to fight. “Yes, I understand.” She should be excited — this is what she’s always wanted — to be a part of something greater than herself and yet all she can feel is conflict. Hesitation. She wonders if emotions bleed through the bond.

The expedition is best described as semi-controlled chaos. Communications fry as they enter the planet the First Order uses as one of its current bases. Each pilot tries to remember their instructions as best they can, but they’re like a little gathering of ducklings, all following along, one behind the other, with no clue as to what’s supposed to be going on. Rey watches her surroundings from the X-wing carefully, staying in tight formation behind Poe. The sky lights up behind her as the ammunition is blasted and Rey jams her rudder up, propelling her back into open space. They’re back to the Resistance Base before the sun settles on the horizon. 

Back on solid ground, she can hardly believe it. Even though everyone whoops and cheers, Rey can’t wrap her mind around the fact the run went in _their_ favor. It was too simple, too easy. It was like the First Order was running through water, struggling to even fight back. Hell, they hardly had. 

“Where was Ben? — Kylo Ren?” Rey quickly corrects herself as she corners Poe in the hall. “He’s their leader now — shouldn’t he have directed the initiative?” She tries to keep her voice steady, neutral, only interested because she’s part of the Resistance and it’s a _normal_ question she  _should_  be asking.

“Intelligence suggests that the First Order is breaking into...well, fragments. Ren is inexperienced and does not take advice from his commanders. I can only assume that General Hux and Kylo do not see eye-to-eye, which leaves everything at a stalemate.”

Rey nods.

“Their leadership, at the moment, is unstable. The Supreme Leader, or whatever title he has given himself, rarely appears in public. They might be planning something, but we cannot be certain.” 

Rey knows no one is planning anything. “But if the First Order is fragmenting itself, why has no one risen up against him? Would that not put an end to their issues?”

Poe cocks an eyebrow, “ — Well, I don’t know. But it’s better for us if they slowly destroy themselves from the inside. We’ll continue to hit them where it hurts in the mean time, but looking at the bigger picture, we’ll need a better plan.”

Rey nods again, what could she even say? There aren’t words that won’t brand her as a traitor, so she smiles instead, giving a nod of her head before falling back from Poe’s side, lingering in the hallway. This was _supposed_ to be what she wanted. This is what she was fighting for. But that part, that humming section of her brain screams _no_ , screams that she has to do something — she can’t let Kylo, Ben, fall apart on his own. She _can_ save him, can’t she?

***

The awful, sickly feeling of loneliness and abandonment hit Rey so hard that she falls to her knees. It knocks the wind from her lungs, shuttering her breathing as tears begin to roll down her cheeks with the force of it all. She is paralyzed by it; all of it, and the bond is screeching, like the bow of a violin scraping hard against its strings.

_Kylo._

_Kylo._

_Kylo._

She struggles to reach him through the bond; it’s difficult to find her way through all the screaming feelings.

_I can’t do it,_ he finally replies, voice weak _. I wanted the past dead and I can’t do it._ She hears the ignored tears in the back of his throat. 

_I can see you._ He’s too exhausted to keep up the barriers in his mind. _Come closer, please._ Her voice is gentle like it was in the lift. _I can help you. It’s never too late._

Rey watches as his form solidifies in front of her, her arms already outstretched. Guilt plagues her as she takes him into an embrace, knowing she should feel disgusted at even the thought of seeing Kylo Ren again. But when she touches him, shyly and with hesitation, like he might dissipate into the air, the world falls back into place. She closes her eyes when the heat of his back radiates through her palm. He feels so _real_ and her heart aches a little that she can only see him through their connection.

Rey digs the heel of her hand in the space between Kylo’s shoulder blades, testing, asking, _can he feel her, too_? She presses harder, stepping forward, the toes of her boots nudging his. Kylo shivers when she pulls him into her embrace so she can press her forehead against his chest, rolling her head under the sharp edge of his collarbone. She’d forgotten just how _big_ he was and she sinks into him, taking a deep inhale. 

_Starved_ , she hears him think. 

Rey bites her lip when Kylo pushes her back, momentarily offended. He surprises her when he falls to his knees, his long arms coming to wrap around her thighs, his head pressed just below her bellybutton. She breathes, the sound coming harsh from her nose. Gingerly, she reaches out, laying her hands on his head, fingers falling into the softness of his hair. The horrific, metallic screeching of their bond settles out, turning to a quiet thrum. A beat. Stable. 

“I can’t do it,” Kylo says again, voice muffled by the fabric of Rey’s shirt. 

What does she say? That he can? No, that’s not right; how could she _encourage_ the darkness that seeps through him — the same that kills Ben Solo and creates Kylo Ren. “You don’t have to.” Rey whispers, turning her gaze down, throat constricting as she looks at him. He’s staring at her with all the intensity of a thousand burning suns, but his irises are dark like there’s no life left. The skin under his eyes is marred with darkness, bruises, like he hasn’t slept in days. Rey pads her thumb over his cheekbone gently, wondering briefly what it would be like if things were different. She startles when Kylo lets out a strangled noise from the back of his throat. 

“No, I mean I can’t do it without you.”

Rey stills, closing her eyes, remembering how it felt when she watched the two in his dream, how it felt to be so loved — whole — admired. And despite it all, she feels it now, radiating off him like he can’t hide it, like he can’t control it, like he doesn’t want to. “— Please, Rey.”

The words hesitate on her tongue; she knows he can hear the answer in her head, but she won’t say it. Instead, she leans over, body cradling Kylo’s, her lips brushing the crown of his head. It’s gentle — sweet —light as air. And he’s gone as fast as her kiss is, vanishing, her legs cold where he had grasped them, chest empty, like he had taken everything that made her whole. Rey heaves a little cry, body splitting in two. How long can she keep playing this?

***

Rey finally understands what Kylo had meant when he murmured _starved_ into her stomach — not for food as she was so used to, but for touch. Her touch. It had calmed him, healed whatever part of him that needed it and now she feels the same the emptiness that he had. She’d been touch-starved her whole life and never knew it. It never really mattered — not really, what was there for her to touch on Jakku? She thinks of her fingers on cold scrap metal, the way it chilled her sun-warmed palms. She remembers the hot roof of her hovel AT-AT, burning her during the hot summer days and freezing her at night. But none of these things had ever brought her comfort and more besides, _who_ was there for her to lay her hands on? Before Finn, she’d never embraced another human — barely had touched anyone beyond defending herself. But when she’d hugged for happiness, for comfort the first time, it woke something in her. Something that demanded attention. Something she only felt sated when Kylo had pressed his bare fingers against her own for the first time.

Rey sighs as she comes to the realization she and he are one in the same, bound by the fates, stars intertwined and laced together. She’s _supposed_ to be his and he hers, but she struggles to understand _how_. The why matters not so much — there are some things Rey won’t ever understand and this is one of them. She closes her eyes and lies back on her bed, concentrating deeply on the pull that originates in the space of her brain, spreading herself out on the hum of the bond, prodding Kylo’s mind just enough so that he knows she’s there. She feels him unbound, coursing with energy: there’s anger in him, fear, adrenaline. But under it, she can feel his heartbeat slow when he realizes she’s reaching out to him this time, her desperation bleeding through the bond as she sees him clearly, as if she’s in his rooms. 

“Where are you?”

“My quarters,” he answers, back still turned to her. She slides her arms around his middle, tucking her face between his shoulder blades, the breathing deep, counting backward in her head to calm herself.

“Why are you here?” He inquires, fingers flexing into fists at his sides, like he’s trying desperately not to touch her. 

“I needed...” she begins, but falters. She’s always stuck. Stuck between her two worlds — her heart and her brain, torn in two. “I...”

Kylo unlocks himself from her hold, moving to the left. Rey wraps her arms around herself instead, like she might be her own substitute. “You just can’t let go, can you?” 

“It’s not that easy,” Rey contests, digging her fingers into her arm wraps. How can she turn on the only people that have ever given her some semblance of family? Of normality? For a moment she forgets Kylo can see what she’s thinking and his face changes, features turning dark, shoulders slumping in defeat. _He_ wants to give her those things. And there’s a part of her slowly making itself known that wants him to, too — she just can’t say it. If she says it, it’s true. And that she doesn’t know if that’s what she wants.

“When you saw my future the first time, what was it?” Kylo asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I can’t find it inside you.”

“You turned. I told you that.”

“There’s more to it than that. Tell me, Rey.”

“We were together, fighting. But you weren’t physically with me — not at that moment. But I could feel you wherever you were and you were fighting toward the light, not against it. You were changed.” Her voice sounds pleading. 

“Where were you? Why were we apart?”

“I don’t...I don’t know. I wasn’t fighting at your side in the same way you were. I was somewhere else. It felt like _home_.”

“Wearing a burgundy dress made of velvet, your hair long, waiting. Waiting for me.”

“Yes,” Rey sighs, “yes. Exactly.” Her breath catches in her throat as she realizes that her vision had been his; one in the same, intertwined with one another without even realizing it. She had seen the beginning and he held the ending. Two parts to a whole. 

“Come with me,” Kylo says, breathing hard, chest rising up and down quickly. “Please. We will build a world no one has ever dreamed of.”

He turns to her and Rey takes his gloved hand before she can even think about it. Apart, they will destroy. Together, they will create. 

***

The kiss they share is frantic. Clashing. Kylo cradles Rey’s face between his massive hands, tilting her head up so he can press his lips to hers properly. Hers are soft where his are chapped, two opposites once more making a whole. Rey kisses him back with every ounce of effort she can muster, slipping her fingers between Kylo’s, smiling as she feels the heat of his skin. She doesn’t like the leather, though; it makes it feel like he’s too far away. Pulling back just slightly, letting her mouth hover over Kylo’s, Rey disentangles his grip from her hair, her eyes locked on his as she pulls the gloves off slowly, finger by finger. “Better,” she murmurs, lifting his hand to her lips, leaving a wet kiss on his palm. “That’s better.”

He kisses her like a starved man — which in a way he is. It makes sense. Rey can’t imagine he’s ever really felt hunger like this; when would he ever have had the time? But she can’t help but return the sentiment in equal fervor, knocking their teeth together in her eagerness, unable to feel ashamed for the passion building in her lower stomach. She _actually_ whimpers when Kylo maneuvers his lips to her neck, nipping her pulse point with a bite before soothing the ache with his tongue. It feels so good — the pleasure so unlike anything she’s experienced and Rey fists his tunic under her fingertips. She can only think that she wants _more_. More of him, all of him.

Kylo lifts her around his hips as if she weighs nothing, swinging her around to lay her back on his bed. It’s a strange feeling that he feels so abundantly real pressed above her; his weight pushing her into the soft mattress. She wonders how quickly she can turn dreams into reality, wrapping her legs around his hips, fingers working quickly and deftly to pull his shirt off, desperate to feel hot skin under her palms. He does the same to her, quickly, in a moment leaving her bare beneath him.

Kylo’s hands are gentle where they explore her, pressing softly at the cleft between her thighs, slicking his fingers with Rey’s wetness. She cants her hips up when he spreads her, unapologetically, silently asking for more. He watches her intently, curiosity piqued as he runs his finger from her entrance to the hardened little nub at the top of her cunt. She’s so pretty like this, he thinks, laid bare and relaxed, lips swollen and staring at him with just as much desire as he has. 

He keeps his thumb on Rey’s clit as he sinks a single finger inside her. Kylo had thought about what she’d feel like but all thoughts paled in comparison. She’s warm and wet, soft like velvet as she pulls him in. And fuck, she’s tight, walls clenching around him as he sinks knuckle deep. Rey whines, teeth cutting into her bottom lip as she twists on his bed. He hooks the digit experimentally and she moans quietly under her breath as if she’s suddenly gone shy. He smirks and repeats his motion, working his thumb in time with the thrusts of his hand. Watching her face, Kylo sinks another finger inside of her, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as her walls flex once again. 

_I wish I was inside you_ , he murmurs through the bond, free hand sliding up her body to caress her breasts. He pinches a nipple between his thumb and index finger, entranced by the way it pebbles under his touch and how he can feel Rey’s reaction — her cunt pulsing as he does it again. “Exquisite,” he mumbles —and she knows he means it. She feels it flowing between them like the blood in her veins. She exhales sharply, pulse picking up, the knot in her stomach growing tight and taut —ready to burst. _This_ , not anything else, is the feeling she has chased her entire life.

_You can be_ , she answers, _one day you will be._

He whines her name in response.

It’s a sound so unlike him that Rey falls apart upon hearing it, wetness flooding from between her thighs, soaking his fingers until he feels the stickiness on his skin — sweet cunt drawing him in deeper and Kylo has never wanted anything more than to sink his cock so deep inside her that she feels him for _days_. But he would prefer to take his pleasure when she’s at his side, real, solid, skin and _everything_ he’s never dreamed of but always wanted to. He leans into kiss her deeply, pulling his hand away from her, wiping her arousal across his hip. He lets Rey trace her tiny hands down his torso, feeling at every inch and groove along the way, drawing little constellations from mole to freckle and back again. His stomach muscles tense with the sensation. She keeps her eyes locked on his as she pushes his pants past his hips, getting them down far enough so that he can kick them the rest of the way off.

She smiles up at him, genuine, free, _beautiful_ , her hands pushing on his chest to change their position. Rey climbs over him, graceful as ever, straddling his thighs as her knuckle swirls around his bellybutton, sliding lower, gaze shifting downward to take him in. She feels _shy_ but there’s abject curiosity, too, as his hardness lies heavy and weeping against his stomach. She gently takes him into her hand, thumb swiping across the tip, enjoying the way he leaves her skin damp with his arousal. It’s another way they’re just one in the same. She closes her fist around him, using Kylo’s sighs and grunts as a guide to learn what he likes. Rey doesn’t even need to get inside his mind to know.

Smirking, she uses her thumb and forefinger to squeeze just behind the head of his cock, licking her bottom lip as precum drips on his toned stomach. For a second, she wonders what he tastes like.

_One day you’ll find out_ , he thinks to her.

She laughs a little — shyness evaporating as she moves her fist up and down, pumping slowly at first, watching Kylo’s face change, entranced the way his lips purse and how his eyes fall closed when she traces the vein on the underside of his length. She likes how she controls him at this moment. _Faster_ , Kylo instructs, _lick your palm._

Rey feels stupid when she does, but his reaction makes it all worth it. Kylo stares at her like she’s something ethereal, eyes dark with worship. Sitting up, he wraps his own hand around her tiny fist, setting the rhythm, showing _exactly_ what he wants her to do. The pace is quick and unforgiving; the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing through the room. She tightens her hand, projecting a image of the two of them together on a throne, her skirts hoisted up around her hips as she rides him, her fingers tightening around the back of the chair, knuckles turning white. It’s their future as it’s always meant to be.

Kylo spills on her stomach suddenly, his hips stuttering against her hand. The head of his cock edges the little puddle of his semen and he whispers her name like he’s in reverence. “Come to me, Rey. Find me.”

“I will,” she replies — and it’s a promise. “I will.”

And then he’s gone and she’s left with nothing but the stickiness on her stomach, white and pooling as it drips down her hip. She _will_ go to him and _together_ they will create.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sat on half this chapter for a couple days and honestly, I still kind of hate the beginning. I don't know what it is but I just...can't get it right. As always, find me @ycungreylo.tumblr.com -- I love chatting with you all! See you around for chapter three!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not opposed to turning this into a two-shot...or a multi-chapter, if enough people want it. You can find me on tumblr @ ycungreylo.tumblr.com


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